“Hannah!” Outside the courthouse, Stephen hurried after her, intent on taking this moment when her watchdog brothers were distracted enough to give her a few inches of space.
“Hannah.” He touched her arm and she turned, her eyes slamming into his. Finally, after two weeks, and he didn’t know what to say.
Her gaze flicked over his shoulder and he knew he didn’t have much time. “I didn’t set that fire. And I didn’t know about Dave’s deal.”
Her eyes searched his and, God, he ached at the uncertainty. Full of shadows and closed off from him.
“That day you came out to the barn. You said it was to apologize.”
“I did want to apologize.” But that’s not why he’d been there and he wouldn’t lie to her. No matter what, he wouldn’t do that. “Yes. I was looking at the property, but I knew I didn’t want it. I was only—”
“You lied.” She pinned him with wounded eyes. “You pretended not to know what was going on the entire time and you did. You told me not to worry about it.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you. I—”
“Was it ever about me?”
The question and the look in her eyes when she asked were a direct hit, the punch to his heart instant and vicious. “It was always about you.” He took a step toward her and with tears welling, she took a step back.
“Was I your opponent? Was it all just you trying to find out what it took to win?”
His throat was raw as he tried to speak.
She shook her head, looking so tired. “I was wrong again. I should have been afraid of you after all.” She spun and started down the steps again.
Desperate, he grabbed her arm. “I didn’t know Dave went behind my back. You have to believe that.”
She turned, her eyes a storm of confusion and disappointment. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
Yes, he could see that, and the toll this was taking. What could he say now that would make things okay between them? He’d lied by omission, about the property and worse. About himself.
He raised an unsteady hand to her face, brushed his thumb across the dark smudge under her eye. “You’re not sleeping.”
“Hannah.” Nick advanced from behind. “You’re not supposed to be talking to him.”
Her bottom lip quivered and his heart broke again watching her fight to be stoic. And then she left, not completely sheltered by the men in her family as she’d been when they first met, but in their midst and away from him.
He could go after her, try to explain, tell her the real truth he thought Dave had revealed that day. The truth that he rode the line of being a killer. But wouldn’t that hurt her even more? Undermine every bit of confidence she’d gained? He’d already hurt her so much. Could he risk hurting her even more?
—
The next day, Stephen stood in the doorway of Dave’s office, not willing to let anyone else supervise the man’s packing and departure. He’d sent Dee home an hour ago, so it was just the two of them.
Dave shot a glance over his shoulder. “You look like you want to hit me.”
“Oh, I want to do more than that.” His hands fisted at his sides as he stared at the man he thought he’d known.
“Look at yourself. Pining away here, paying homage to a dead girl.”
Stephen ground his teeth, barely holding himself back. “I don’t even know you.”
“You don’t know yourself,” Dave spat.
I like who you are now.
“Don’t stand there looking at me like I’m the only guilty party.”
“Aren’t you?”
Dave turned, gave him a disgusted book. “We both know that’s not true.” Dave forced a few more things into a box, then crossed and slapped a file against Stephen’s chest. “Here you go. That one’s for you.”
Stephen took it and read the label. Hannah’s address.
“You’ll see on the last page that there’s a new buyer in town. The city wanted out of the whole mess, saving their asses. I was kind enough to teach them the art of the quick sale.”
Stephen had figured they’d be anxious to sell. Was counting on it. He’d already set up a deeply buried account that would buy her property. Already planned how he would work it around until it was back in Hannah’s hands again. Curious, he flipped to the last page. Sinclair.
Stephen looked up to find a sinister smile crossing Dave’s face.
“Why would Sinclair want—”
“Exactly,” Dave said, seeing the answer dawn on his face. “Because you wanted it. Seems your enemies have become my friends.”
He should have anticipated this move. “Well, I hope it was worth it to him.”
“You know better than anyone, the worth of something is all in how much you want it.”
“Your last strike before you leave?”
“Something like that. I hope it hits your bitch as well.”